A Fear Like Falling
by Slinkymilinky
Summary: They say 'If you love something, let it go.' Sakura says, ‘Not a chance in hell!’ -Written for the "Love's Not Time's Fool" KakaSaku Shakespeare competition.
1. Prologue

**A Fear like Falling**

_Authors Note: _

_This story is an adaptation of **William Shakespeare's Cymbeline** written for the KakaSaku: Love's Not Time's Fool Competition on LiveJournal. _

_Please read and review the other submissions, there are some very talented writers participating who would love your support!  
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_So...keep an open mind, also bare in mind that this is unbeta'd so there WILL be errors and grammar sins. I hope you can enjoy it anyway!  
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**Prologue**

The sky, rendered a chalky powder-blue from rising midday steam of Konoha's restaurants and bathhouses, was reflected with mirror-like perfection in the glassy surface of the great Nakano river.

At the height of summer Konoha was at its most beautiful, the riverbank was dotted with pearlescent pink flowers which nestled amongst the plate like lily-pads, jutting weeds and bulrushes. Only the gentle hum of electric-coloured dragonflies disturbed the silence.

Sakura's hands gripped a gilded railing which ran the circumference of the floating pagoda, allowing heat from the warmed metal to spread through her palms and wrinkled finger tips. Idly, she swayed back and forth, watching crystalline droplets of water fall from her wet-hair to make dark spots on the sun-bleached decking.

In such a serene setting it was easy to believe that the war brewing along Fire Country's western border was happening in another world or another lifetime altogether.

"Sakura, please put some clothes on, you'll catch a chill."

"It's high summer. I could fry an egg on a rock in this weather." Sakura scoffed gently before turning to throw her Hokage, adoptive mother and mentor an overly exaggerated look of incredulity.

She hooked her thumbs behind the thin red spaghetti straps of her bikini and stretched them away from her body to expose the twin streaks of milky white hidden beneath. With a light giggle she released them to slap loudly against her damp skin and cocked a pink eyebrow in mock challenge. Her gaze briefly skimmed over the two ANBU who stood on either side of the village leader, as unmoving and unemotional as the pagoda's supporting columns.

Tsunade's lips quirked into a half smile before she schooled her expression back into one of disapproval.

"That excuse for a swimming costume would be better used as dental floss."

Sakura gave a dramatic sigh and released her hold on the railing, bending slowly and sinuously with swan-like grace to pluck a towel from the decking. She draped it about her shoulders and began to massage her long damp hair with one corner.

"Would you rather I went swimming in my uniform?" She asked with a coy smile.

A slight tremor ran the length of one of the ANBU's body.

Sakura's smile broadened.

_Finally!_ - a reaction.

She skipped over to where her Shishou was sitting and placed her dried hands on the Godaime's shoulders and began to inject soothing medicinal chakra into the knotted muscles. Tsunade gave an appreciative sigh as the tension in her back lessened and allowed the weighty paperwork clutched in her hands to drop into her lap.

"You seem stressed Tsunade-sama. Let me iron some of those creases out." Sakura commented jovially as she worked.

Tsunade's voice was flat when she responded, "Who are you calling creased, eh?"

Sakura laughed - a light bubbling sound that matched the lapping of water against the decking.

With a gentle sigh Tsunade continued, "Danzou seems to think we should be formulating an offensive strike...but we are barely holding our borders as it is, especially since the insurgents began interfering. He thinks I am being cowardly by even attempting to negotiate. And if we attack? Well, that will be the final nail in the coffin for Suna. They will never consider accepting a new alliance if things escalate to that point." She pinched the bridge of her nose tightly to push back the encroaching headache needling at her temples. "Can you believe all of this stems from just one missing boy?"

Sakura's fingers continued to work as she reasoned, "I know the Kazakage is a sensible man, he would understand if you just explained it to him. I don't see why you can't just tell them the truth."

"No...Danzou has assured me that if Sunagakure were to find out that we no longer have the Kyuubi then they would jump at the chance to invade, or alert the other countries to our predicament."

Sakura's hands stilled, frustration burning in her gut as she spat,

"I don't even know why you listen to that man. He's clearly just a war monger. As for why you married him, I have no idea what possessed yo-"

"Sakura, that's enough!" Tsunade roared, throwing Sakura's hands from her shoulders to stand and whirl on the young women, the paperwork bunched and twisted in her clenched fist,

"He has been nothing but kind to you and you _still_ treat him with suspicion! Your attitude towards him is disgusting. You have been nothing but unpleasant to him from day one and your treatment of the suitor he found for you has been deplorable."

Sakura felt her face flush and ears heat with a mix of embarrassment, anger and confusion. It baffled her. It truly baffled her.

Long seconds passed in which the two women simply glared at each other, neither willing to back down. From the corner of her eye she could see the two ANBU readying to interfere. They shifted their balance from foot to foot, neither wanting to get between a furious Hokage and her irate apprentice.

When Sakura was sure that she could speak without screaming, she made sure to speak slowly, emphasising every syllable,

"I am _not_ going to marry that marble mannequin. I refuse. The sooner Danzou gets that idea into his thick skull the better."

Tsunade's fiery gaze seemed to harden at Sakura's words, her amber eyes becoming a dead, stony brown. Her face arranged itself into a mimicry of a smile which held about as much expression as a death mask.

When she spoke her voice was a flat monotone,

"You will do exactly what you are ordered to. You will marry _him_ to strengthen the relationship between Root and the rest of the shinobi populous. You will do this for your country. You will do it because I tell you to. You may leave. Now."

With that Tsunade turned and sat back in her seat and stared blankly out over the Nakano river.

Sakura, chewing on her lip in utter frustration, spun on her heel and started running down the thin wooden jetty towards the Hokage's sprawling gardens. She had seen it a thousand times over the past few months. That vacant, dead look in Tsunade's eyes.

It broke her heart to see her once proud and strong mentor reduced to a simpering coward clutching to Danzou's coat tails. She didn't know how he had wormed his way so insidiously into her Shishou's heart and she didn't care. The whole situation made her nauseous. Her country was on the verge of collapse, her personal life was up for auction and nobody seemed willing to do a damned thing about it. Not for the first time she wished she knew what had become of Naruto, the boy - no _man_ – who had disappeared from their lives at the same time Danzou had become her mentors husband and closest advisor. He should be Hokage. He should be here to help her out of this mess.

The prickling moisture in her eyes could not be tears, she told herself stubbornly. She was _not_ crying. It was residual water from her midday swim.

She swooped low to pluck a pebble from the pier mid-run and hurled it hard, with just a little chakra behind it, into the perfect inverted world surrounding her. With a perverse sense of achievement, she watched as Konoha shattered into a million rippling pieces.

* * *

He found her later that day in a sheltered grove of sycamores, seated in one of the oldest trees, on its thickest bough with her back against its ancient mottled trunk. One leg was tucked up under her chin while the other hung loosely over the edge swinging to and fro to some unheard song. If she had noticed his presence she didn't acknowledge it, instead she continued her task of stripping away the green papery flesh of a leaf from its delicate supporting structure of veins, with quick and jerking movements of her nimble fingers. Feather light fragments spiralled down in a slow waltz to rest on the manicured lawn, creating a tiny nucleus of chaos in an otherwise perfect, little universe.

She had changed, replacing that microscopic bikini for her usual ensemble of canvas medic apron and figure hugging maroon tank. She had tied her long, still slightly damp, hair back into a messy plait that started at the nape of her neck and reached the bottom of her shoulder-blades. The pale fabric of the half-apron resting against her thighs enhanced the deep golden tan she had developed these last summer months. Due to the weather she had forgone the addition of gloves, leggings and thigh-high-boots. He knew if he touched her there, bare skin to bare skin, she would feel like honey, smooth and warm - and yet, _still _break out in Goosebumps in response to his touch. The thought made him smile.

Channelling a little chakra into his feet he leapt up to join her.

"I thought I'd find you here." He said carefully, fearful of the strained silence surrounding her.

He tried to plunge his hands into his pockets out of habit but they glanced awkwardly off the sleek black material of his ANBU pants. Instead he hooked his thumbs into their waistband and slouched over her awkwardly, waiting for her to speak.

The skeletal remains of the leaf spun between her fingers. Once. Twice. Three times.

"I can't do this anymore." She whispered, finally looking up at the smooth planes of the grinning wolf's face.

A sudden hot swell of panic filled his chest in that moment. The air left his lungs in a gasping stream of disbelief as he immediately understood what it was that she couldn't do. He wasn't ready for this conversation.

"Do what?"

"This." She waggled the leaf-skeleton back and forth through the space between them.

"Of course you can." The Wolf growled fiercely.

"I can't." She stated firmly but quietly, "You heard her didn't you? They're going to marry me off. Hell, I'll probably be led down the aisle with a Kunai held against my back."

"We won't let them do that. We won't."

"_We_ don't have a choice."

He could see the salty tear tracks standing out starkly against her skin but they had long since dried and now her vibrant green eyes were dulled by resignation. He hated that. Sakura was a fighter; it wasn't in her nature to give up. He didn't want her to give up on _him_.

He pushed away the wolf visage, allowing the grinning porcelain to sit high amongst a nest of coarse silver hair and reached out to hold her chin, fixing her in place so that she could see the determination in his face and the sincerity in which he spoke his next words.

"There is always a choice Sakura. Marry _me_."

There was a quick spark in those expressive orbs, a strike of flint against metal. He just needed to coax that spark into an ember and that ember into a consuming fire.

"Marry me," he repeated, "Right now."

"K-Kakashi...are you..."

He nodded the affirmative, "I_ am_ serious."

She looked so unsure. Her lip trembled ever so slightly, but her eyes never left his mismatched ones. Gradually she began to smile, a genuine smile, and to him it lit the shadowy grove as brightly as if the sun itself were sitting next to him on the branch.

Still smiling she questioned him, her voice rising in pace and pitch until he could barely distinguish one question from the next,

"...You are serious? You want to marry me? What about Tsunade-sama? What will they do when they find out? You love me? Do you really love me enough to..."

He slipped his gentle grip on her chin to touch a fingertip to her mouth. She instantly quieted down, beseeching him to answer with large glistening eyes.

"Sakura, I really don't care what they think, and yes. I love you."

He flicked her hard on the nose and his eyes folded into their trademark 'happy' crescents.

Then Sakura was upon him, throwing her arms around his neck with such vigour that he nearly lost his carefully maintained balance on the tree-bough. He returned the embrace, fisting long fingers into her top and cradling the back of her head with his other hand. Soon she was tugging impatiently at the black cloth covering his face, and planting hungry open-mouthed kisses across his cheeks, his nose, the crook of his neck...

"We" a kiss, "can go" another kiss "now?"

"Well first," he murmured against her wet onslaught "I thought I might teach you a lesson for parading around all day in that tiny bikini."

"Yes _Sensei_," Her musical giggle was light and caressing against his mouth while he worked his hands under her top and began struggling with the clasp on her bra,

"I should probably change into something more appropriate." She thought aloud, arching into his insistent touch.

He distractedly replied, "You look fantastic," His head dipped to nuzzle against her cleavage.

She gasped breathily when she felt teeth grazing against a sensitive nipple and then his hot mouth engulfing her left breast while a hand moved to caress the other.

"Kakashi...shouldn't we wait?"

"mmhm?" His mouth moved against her.

"I said shouldn't we wait? You know, till after the wedding?"

He drew away from her suddenly, astonishment clearly visible on the handsome lines of his bare face,

"Sakura...I don't think it counts if we've already _done it_ before the wedding."

She snorted, sounding a lot like Tonton and replied, "No, I guess not."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Sakura pulled a wide-toothed ivory comb through long caramel hair, carefully parting it and tying it into the customary loose pigtails that the Hokage preferred. She hummed as she worked out the knots and kinks, smoothing each section with a fine balm to heighten the natural shine. Tsunade had been quiet all morning, unusually so, and Sakura had taken it upon herself to try and lighten her mentors mood.

Sakura put it down to stress, it was written all over Tsunade's face – in the way her eyes looked slightly heavier than usual and in how her mouth was held perpetually in a thin line. It was probably just worry over the looming war or perhaps even anger at Sakura herself for their argument several days ago. Sakura was not going to apologise for _that_, why should she? She hoped that her own good mood might transfer to the older woman with proximity. The past few days with Kakashi had been some of the most wonderful days in her life.

The only thing that had tainted the bubble of happiness she found herself floating in, was the guilt she felt at deceiving Tsunade. It was going to be a difficult subject to broach.

Tsunade's voice, frigid in its clipped monotone, cut off Sakura's train of thought.

"Is there something on your mind?"

Sakura stopped the grooming and tucked the comb neatly inside her pocket, finally meeting her mentor's intense gaze in the dresser mirror.

Wincing slightly and pulling the corner of her lower lip between her teeth, Sakura wished for the hundredth time that she wasn't so easy to read. She had never been particularly suited to undercover work.

"Actually there is something I need to speak to you about..." she began nervously.

She didn't really know where to start. Hidden beneath her blouse a simple gold band hung on a simple thin chain. It suddenly felt like a leaden weight, dragging the words she had been about to say down into the murky recesses of her mind.

As if that weren't enough, the uncharacteristic bitterness of Tsunade's next words rendered her completely mute,

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't find out?"

The hoarse anger in her mentor's voice was complimented by the dry rustle of paper as she produced a small scroll from the inner pocket of her yukata. She held it over her shoulder.

"Take it."

Sakura swallowed dry, all too aware of the minute trembling of her hands as she took the official looking document.

"Open it."

The young kunoichi pushed her finger underneath the official seal, splitting the red wax symbol of Konoha in two. She unravelled the paper and began to read.

Tsunade continued to watch her apprentice with sharp eyes as the girls expression changed slowly from confusion to comprehension and then lastly to horror. Somewhere far behind Tsunade's eyes a small voice was screaming, choking, begging...

...For what? Tsunade couldn't quite pin it down, like a half reminder of a long forgotten memory; she couldn't quite focus on its source or meaning.

Sakura's healthy sun kissed complexion drained to a sickly grey. The scroll dropped from limp fingers to land with a noisy clatter on polished floorboards.

"Please tell me you didn't do this. Please Shishou. Please tell me...please..."

The small voice inside Tsunade protested louder, but she wasn't listening.

"I did."

Sakura stared unblinking at her Shishou's reflection, searching for any signs of deceit. There were none. Something wet and warm darted down Sakura's cheek and the colours in the room began to bleed together.

"H-how..." She paused, taking a deep inhalation to give her the strength to ask one very important question, "How long do I have?"

Sakura glanced at the smiling face of the clock which looked on happily as the floor began to drop out from under her.

"The order would have been placed ten minutes ago."

Sakura choked out a strangled sob and fled the Hokage's bed chamber.

* * *

She took the stairs three at a time, pushing through the fiery burn of lactic acid which threatened to turn her legs to wood should she stop.

His apartment door was slightly ajar and protested loudly on un-oiled hinges as she shoved it roughly open and barrelled into the small living area.

His normally anally ordered home looked like a war zone. The couch was upended, yellow foam spilling from the slashed upholstery like stringy intestines, springs jutting up like broken bones.

The bookshelf, smashed to smithereens in the corner of the room, had been stripped of its contents. The brightly coloured scrolls and leather-bound books had jumped ship, leaving the splintered shelves to float as driftwood on the threadbare carpet.

The light fixtures had been pulled loose from the ceiling.

Wires trailed down the plaster walls.

Sakura shut the door behind her mechanically and leant against its unyielding surface. Her burning legs gave out from beneath her and she allowed herself to slide down into the wreckage.

She was too late. They had taken him away. Had she honestly thought that their elopement would change anything? Had she thought that a marriage certificate, _a piece of paper_ for God's sake, would have somehow changed her Hokage's mind? Tsunade had not been herself for some time, prone to erratic mood swings and senseless decision making...but she _had _believed that when faced with proof of her devotion to Kakashi, with _proof_ of their happiness, the Hokage would have listened. She had believed _him_.

And now he was probably locked up in one of Root's numerous underground facilities, thrown in with a bunch of criminals and traitors. Because of her and her naive belief.

A high screeching from the bedroom. A low litany of muffled curses.

A second voice joining the first.

Sakura drew a kunai from her weapons pouch, weighing the cool metal in her hand, and moved towards the bedroom door, treading nimbly and silently over the strewn belongings. Fragments of broken conversation filtered through the wood,

_"...must be here somewhere..."_

_"...hurry up...maybe...no...not here, have you checked the closet?"_

_"...yes...give me your katana..."_

_"...isn't...dead already?"_

She tried to calm her racing heart, pooling chakra into her shaking hands to steady them.

Slowly, she wrapped her hand around the door handle and eased it open.

The sight through the widening crack made her mouth drop open in shock, a sharp gasp escaped her.

Kakashi was passing his potted plant to the ANBU next to him. Sakura's gasp had him turning abruptly to where the door had swung open.

He was at her side to steady her as she slumped into the doorframe. He gently removed the kunai from her death grip, slipping it back into her pouch with an easy movement.

Her fingers were instantly in his hair, pushing up his lopsided headband, pulling down his mask, just to make sure that it was him and not some sick spectre she had dreamed up. Her hands roamed the contours of his face. His broad shoulders. His defined torso. He always looked like he was drowning in the dark baggy slacks and shirts of the standard shinobi gear as opposed to the formfitting ANBU regalia. She always found it made him look younger, and lost.

Kakashi's ANBU comrade averted his masked gaze politely, whether from her tears or Kakashi's exposed face she couldn't tell. But it gave the couple the space they needed.

"Why are you here?" Sakura breathed, "...They're coming for you, they're going to lock you up...you've been declared a traitor, and I came here and...your apartment is trashed and I heard voices talking about you being dead already...and..."

Her fingers knotted desperately into his dark blue shirt, screwing and twisting the fabric into her palms.

"Shh..." he cooed against her hair, "We have been packing in a hurry...things got a little chaotic."

"b-but I heard them say dead...you said dead...I th-thought you were dead..."

"Dead? We were talking about Mr Ukki...who is certainly_ not_ dead." He said with great emphasis and a furrowed brow.

"The pot plant?"

Over his shoulder Sakura saw the ANBU, by whose cat mask she recognised as the man who usually worked alongside Kakashi guarding the Hokage, chucking the dismal, brown-looking pot plant into a large capacity storage scroll along with bundles of clothing and weapons.

"Have you seen what they've accused you of?" Sakura continued agitatedly, "They're saying you've been consorting with the resistance - that you've been passing on strategic information to overthrow the Hokage... that's _bullshit!_ And they're charging you with the fraternisation of a student...as if you're some kind of predator. I haven't been you're student for over a year, I'm eighteen for fucks sake! It's totally fabricated!"

She shook her head fiercely, sickened at the level Tsunade had sunk to and unable to make sense of her motivations.

"Fraternisation eh?" interjected Kakashi with a grin, "Hmm, big word...I can think of plenty of other things to call what we've been doing. Fooling around, frolicking, fornicating, fuc--"

She punched him in the ribs. Hard.

"That's not funny Kakashi! They are trying to destroy your reputation!"

"I know. That's why I'm leaving." He wheezed.

The Cat said in a smooth and oddly familiar voice, "and we have to leave now, Captain."

She felt rather than saw Kakashi's nod against her head.

She pulled away from him suddenly, bracing her hands against his shoulders to look him squarely in both eyes,

"I'm coming with you."

She expected a rebuttal, but Kakashi merely nodded, reaching to slide his headband back over his Sharingan eye, and to pull the black mask back over his nose.

If the Cat disapproved he said nothing and threw the storage scroll to where Kakashi snatched it out of the air and deposited it into a cylindrical hip holster.

They made their way to the window, hoisting it up and leaping to the street below.

* * *

Each of the five great nations prided their Hidden Villages on being impenetrably fortified, by nature and construction. Konoha was secreted away behind its high walls, surrounded by dense woodland and rough terrain. Suna was hidden amongst endless sand dunes and bottomless crevices; unless you happened to know its specific location you were more likely to be driven mad by the sun than simply stumble upon it. Kumo was hidden amongst snow capped mountains and cloaked in a near constant blanket of cloud. Iwa was also sheltered by mountains, a sprawling range divided by a network of labyrinthine passes. Kiri, a small isle surrounded by tremulous waters, jagged rocks, and some even said sea monsters - with its added barrier of mist was possibly the most inaccessible of all.

They were, by design, built to keep the enemy out.

_But,_ no matter the location, each hidden village was also protected and populated by _shinobi._ Shinobi built their careers on finding ways out of tricky situations.

In broad daylight, three shinobi slipped skilfully over an unguarded section of wall to the north of the abandoned Uchiha compound. Within seconds they had dissolved seamlessly into the thick foliage and had begun the long journey southeast to the border of River Country, a neutral band of land that divided the great lands of Fire and Wind.

Sakura ran on autopilot, straining herself to keep up with the much faster pace of her two larger companions. Her body was humming with the exertion, her breath coming in sharp hard pants from between clenched teeth. They needed to put distance between them and the Hunter-nin that were sure to follow - the notion of pacing themselves to conserve energy was rejected in favour of covering as much ground as possible.

They were only nine miles from Konoha's walls, running full pelt through the trees, when a shadow dropped like a stone onto the adjacent branch causing the group to spin agilely on the spot and come to rest in expertly poised fighting stances.

The bandaged figure shuffled forward out of the gloomy darkness into a shaft of dappled sunlight.

"Danzou" Sakura hissed.

The elder man raised his good hand in a gesture somewhere between placating and demanding, and spoke in that very low, very calm way of his,

"Hatake-san," he addressed solely Kakashi, seeming to disregard Sakura and the ANBU member as inconsequential, "I am sure you have carefully considered your decision to leave Konoha rather than volunteer yourself for detention. You are a seasoned fighter, a respected and talented individual and I am sure you fully understand the implications of what you are doing..."

Kakashi nodded sharply, unwilling to relax his stance or take his eyes off the elderly man for even a second,

"..._but,_" Danzou continued, "Did you factor Haruno-san into these calculations?"

"You interfering bastard..." muttered Sakura acerbically and Kakashi held up a finger to silence her,

"What are you saying?"

"_You _grew up in a time of war; you experienced firsthand what it is like to be hunted, to live each day under the assumption that it would be your last, to survive un-closeted - without the protection of the Village walls. The life of a missing-nin...a _criminal, _is all this and more. Is that the future you had planned for your wife? Running, starving..."

In a bored tone Kakashi responded, "You've made your point."

Sakura, feeling the heat of her anger blister and curl under her skin, clenched a fist tightly against her hipbone and fought to keep it there. Who did this posturing idiot think he was? She wasn't some wet behind the ears genin anymore, she was a top medic and a solid combatant. The way that man so casually belittled her abilities made her want to shove her hand down his throat and pull out his...

"No I haven't. Not yet." As Danzou interrupted her particularly vicious train of thought, Sakura saw a tremor work through Kakashi's shoulders and a split second later realised why. There was an increase in pressure, a probing of her peripheral senses that seemed to mould like damp paper around the base of her neck. She didn't need to search her surroundings for the new arrivals – but she did anyway, and although there was nothing to see, and nothing to hear, she knew thatnothing _was_ there. She could instinctively feel the gaping void the cluster of non-entities left in the forest.

Kakashi's growled exhalation refocused her attention on the unassuming figure before them.

"You cannot take the girl with you Hatake. She is of value to her Hokage and in the coming war her skills will be valuable to her country,"

He did not need to back this up with a verbal threat. The lingering presence of a Root squadron was enough to ensure he had been understood.

"But I am not unreasonable, or cruel. You have five minutes."

Danzou slipped into a break in the breeze, leaving a flurry of leaves spinning a top the broad tree limb.

Five minutes to say goodbye. Five minutes before the roots sprung up to lash around his limbs and pull him deep underground. Kakashi wasted no time in gathering Sakura to him, and although she continued to splutter and scream, he felt that her heart just wasn't in it. Five minutes was still five minutes longer than he had got with Obito or Rin or his Sensei.

"You understand that you have to stay, right?" He murmured against her crown.

She choked, unable to vocalise her thoughts and instead nodded dumbly against his chest. He could feel the wetness seeping into his shirt, her eyes laying little kisses on his heart.

"Wasn't it supposed fix everything?" she said after far too long. Four minutes.

He didn't really know what to say to that and luckily she didn't seem to expect him to have the answer,

"I don't trust that man. I don't trust him at all."

"He has Konoha's best interests at heart."

The silence stretched. The shadows in the forest seemed to lean closer.

Two minutes.

"They're going to hunt you down."

"Maa, they can try..."

He tightened his arms around her, taking long inhalations of her hair.

"I'll wait for you." She whispered simply.

Carefully he untangled himself from her, trying to ignore the pained sniffle that accompanied that action.

"K-Kakashi...?" she reached to undo the clasp at the base of her neck, removing the simple chain from which hung her simple wedding band alongside her late mother's emerald engagement ring. She took his hand and coiled the chain and rings into his gloved palm. The leather groaned gently when she rolled his fingers tightly closed,

"Will you hang onto these for me until you come back?"

Her affected casualness irritated him, but he allowed it. There was no harm in indulging her fantasies he supposed.

He didn't need to tell her that this would be the last time she'd ever see him.

"Then you can look after this, I won't be needing it for a while."

He tied his headband loosely around her neck. She let his smoky scent waft over her as his fingers worked the knot. The dented metal glinted brightly under the dappled sunlight, illuminating his masked face with fragmented rainbows. He kissed her gently on the mouth, the fabric barrier coarse against her lips.

One minute.

"You need to go..."

"I suppose I should."

He wiped a tear away from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He planted another kiss to her lips. And then another.

"Kakashi...please...you need to go." She pleaded.

He leant in a final time, whispering a simple 'I love you' against the shell of her ear.

And then he was gone. Another gap in the forest.

His ANBU companion, whose presence Sakura had forgotten about, hitched his mask up revealing strong features; the hard lines and flat planes were carved into a look of deep sympathy.

"I'll ensure he makes it to the border." Yamato promised before following after Kakashi.

Soon both of them had been swallowed by the thick foliage.

The fifth minute was marked by shadows shifting. They slid into the open one by one to follow after their quarry.

Sakura was left alone in the silent woodland.

* * *

Tsunade had refused her an audience. For the first time – _ever_ – Tsunade simply wasn't talking to her. She had been roughly and rudely removed from the waiting room and detained in her quarters for the rest of the evening.

After that she had torn a crater the size of the Hokage monument in training ground three. Tired of crying and sick to the bone with being left behind, she had wrenched the trees from the ground, split the earth in two, before finally collapsing exhaustedly amongst the evidence of her anger. _They_ had brought her back to the Hokage's estate.

Sakura's sycamore grove was usually a haven she retreated to when her thoughts were troubled.

She sat in her favourite tree, its trunk shaped perfectly to fit snugly against the serpentine curve of her spine. It was part of her.

But for the last two days her private slice of heaven had become her prison. Its fruit laden branches the iron bars of her cell.

All she could hear was the distant ringing of her own happy laughter and the faint echo's of Kakashi's covered hands working their way across her skin. The memories seemed to have leeched into the very wood. Into each perfect leaf.

Perhaps she was a glutton for punishment – surrounding herself with reminders of their lovemaking, wallowing in each remembered touch and fumble – but this place had a privacy that she needed right now.

Whether she was dipping her toes in the ornate fountains, strolling through the orchards or sitting amongst the carefully tended flower beds, the guards were omnipresent, loitering just outside of her field of vision and watching her every movement.

Her movements within Konoha had been strictly limited to the estate and its grounds; her schedule at the clinic had been wiped clean, the research papers she had been working on had been stripped from her quarters. Even her morning training routine – a simple series of Kata – was monitored. She was literally a princess locked inside an ivory tower. Only there was no prince to save her.

When she had moved into the Hokage's estate she had been overwhelmed by the privilege bestowed upon her, but Tsunade had told her to think nothing of it. After all the Hokage had no sons or daughters of her own, and Sakura was more to her than a simple protégé. It was widely acknowledged that the role of chief medic would be passed to Sakura when the Hokage decided to retire, and Sakura already ran several of the hospitals departments with great efficiency. Tsunade had speculated that when Naruto took over the mantle of Village leader he would have insisted that Sakura had at least a wing of the estate anyway.

Of course that was before Naruto had vanished so suddenly and abruptly and also before Tsunade had effectively made her a prisoner.

She wondered dismally who would have taken over her life's work and found herself conflicted over whether to be relieved or irritated that her responsibilities had probably been handed to Ino.

Her attention was caught by the appearance of a platoon of Root looking a little the worse for wear. She could see them through the crisscrossing lattice of tree branches. Their black lacquer masks absorbing the heat rather than reflecting it.

She hated the dark Root masks...

In contrast the ANBU masks, made from reinforced porcelain, were bone white save for their identifying animal designs. They were horrifying to look at; the expressions pulled into toothy grimaces, the lurid splashes of colour – often red – spilling from the eye sockets like bloody tears, or smeared around the lips like half-devoured gore. They were designed to intimidate and terrify the enemy. The mask was a persona that could be adopted, or even a spirit that could be evoked, and certainly, in the moonlight the chilling visage hung free from the body like an otherworldly phantom.

Sakura loved them and found the whole notion of a man hiding beneath the face of a demon to be rather romantic. She had always had a soft spot for stories of princesses falling in love with monsters...as long as the princess wasn't too whiney and pathetic.

The Root masks were not like those. The dark lacquered surface was simple and undecorated; there were no flourishes of paint, no deviance from the base design. Every mask was identical, crude Rat likenesses which only covered the top portion of the face, leaving the mouth and tip of the nose exposed – not that that mattered, the Root shinobi' never bore expression to identify them by anyway.

There was no identity to protect, no prince hiding beneath the beast...the masks were practical, they afforded light protection to the head and nose, prevented dirt from getting in the eyes and more importantly bought a rigid uniformity to the collectives appearance.

There was no prince, no monster...just flesh and bone. And _that_ was what Sakura specifically hated.

She could make out the identity of one of them however. The exposed expanse of alabaster midriff was the giveaway.

Sai. Her _betrothed_. She mentally spat the word, feeling her skin crawl just looking at him.

He had once been a member of her team, and at one point had been something of a friend to her in his own stunted way. Then he had disappeared. And when he'd returned? It was as if he had been wiped clean of everything he had learnt. It had all been erased. Whatever bonds he had developed between him, herself and Naruto and even Kakashi had been brutally severed. His dark eyes now resembled that of a shark. Dead. Empty.

He was slower than before...broken somehow, in that perfectly formed way of his.

Seeing him now, walking through the gardens with his squad and favouring his right leg, sent a small wave of sadness through her. Before she would have run to him, healing his wounds and chastising him for being careless, he would have called her a '_hag_' and she would have cuffed him around the head with enough affection to render him unconscious.

There could be none of that now. And they wanted her to marry him? They expected her to shackle herself emotionally to_ something _that couldn't feel?

"He just attacked; there was no recognition when he knocked my mask free."

Sakura squealed in shock, pitching left and slipping from her perch in panic. For a second she was surrounded by empty air and then something strong and thick righted her, pulling her back onto the branch.

"Sorry about that..." Yamato murmured guiltily rubbing the back of his head with an arm which still resembled a long shaft of wood.

Sakura lurched forward, instantly inspecting the numerous cuts and abrasions littering the captain's body. Green chakra flared in the space between them, quickly knitting the raw skin back together. She waited patiently for him to speak while she worked.

"I got him to the border in one piece. He asked me to watch out for you, he told me you'd need someone on your side."

The tears were welling up again, blurring her vision, but she continued with her task, first sealing a nasty gash on his side and then moving to mend a torn ligament in his shoulder.

"He'll send us a message when he is safe."

She nodded, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes and then coughed lightly to clear her too tight throat,

"Sai attacked you? Do you think they'll report you for helping a..." she didn't want to say it out loud and touched her fingers to the plate of metal around her neck.

"He didn't become a missing-nin until he crossed the border, and until that point Kakashi was my superior...so...well, I can talk my way out of it if necessary."

Sakura threaded her fingers with his and Yamato did his best to hide his embarrassment underneath a cough. Awkwardly he patted the back of her hand,

"It will all be fine. I promise."

"That's what Kakashi used to say." Sakura replied wistfully.

* * *

_...sixteen thousand two hundred and twenty one..._

_...sixteen thousand two hundred and twenty two..._

_...sixteen thousand..._

There had been a cactus that looked like the Third. A lightening scorched tree that resembled a pointing hand. The exposed skin above his mask was tight and uncomfortable, burnt by the glaring sun that was only now dipping below the horizon. The temperature was dropping rapidly, the nights encroaching frigidity doubled by the fierce winds that sailed over a sea of rolling yellow dunes.

Kakashi tugged his mask up as high as it would go, grateful that his thick spiky bangs provided some protection from the sand trying to squirrel its way into his squinted eyes. The Sharingan was working hard to help him navigate through the violent sandstorm, provided information that his natural eye could not.

The individual particles slowed to a gravity defying crawl, floating lazily through the air like microscopic plankton, and although another part of him could _feel_ thousands of them battering against his face and body at once, his slowed perception allowed him to search the uniformly bleak landscape for anything that could constitute a landmark. He continued counting; refusing to doubt the instructions he had been given.

_...sixteen thousand nine hundred and seven..._

_...sixteen thousand nine hundred and..._

There!

Through the ever shifting curtain of brown he could just make out the jagged silhouette of a rock formation. With a grateful breath he turned toward it, and by his seventeen-thousandth step he was searching along its sheltered parameter for an entrance. It was there. Right where his kōhai had said it would be.

The air buckled under his gaze. The Sharingan cut through the appearance of solid rock like a knife. A hand sign and a tiredly whispered _'Kai'_ later, and the genjutsu trickled away to expose the thin naturally carved alley way between the towering slabs of stone.

He paused to retrieve a roll of bandages from his weapons pouch and wound them around his head and over his left eye. The Sharingan was aching dully from overuse and his chakra reserves were woefully low. He didn't like the idea of venturing into unknown territory without the use of his special eye, but in his current state it was unavoidable.

The abrupt bite of metal against his cloth covered throat was not wholly unexpected but Kakashi was too exhausted to play the part of _'surprised victim.'_ He finished tying the knot behind his head and raised his hands slowly.

"Password." A low baritone demanded.

Kakashi replied smoothly, "Green Spandex is a clear indicator of homosexuality."

A horrified gasp blew warm air against his ear,

"_Nonsense!_ Green spandex fits to the body like a leaf protecting the blossoming springtime of – huh?"

Kakashi was spun around by his shoulders and went with the movement like a limp rag-doll,

"Kakashi? Why, Hatake Kakashi, is that you under all that dirt?" Gai's cheerful face searched his questioningly,

"It is you! Why didn't you say so?" he beamed, clapping Kakashi on the back heartily and then coughing as a cloud of grit and dust enveloped them both.

"Come on, Let's get you cleaned up, you look a mess my good friend!"

The Copy-nin was ushered quickly down the narrow pathway, phasing out Gai's enthusiastic recount of stories and exploits to take in his surroundings. The thin passage opened out into a large basin, surrounded by a towering wall of rock. The open air cavern was almost wholly protected from the persistent sand storm, simple canvas tents lined the circumference, about thirty in total, varying in size and structure.

A large marquee had been erected in the centre -the buzz of light conversation and..._singing _leaked from its seams and into the cold night air.

The smell of boiling broth was rich and heady in the enclosed space, and Kakashi felt his stomach pinch with hunger. He hadn't eaten for nearing forty eight hours and the salty odour sent his mouth filling with saliva. He gravitated almost instantly towards its source, ignoring Gai's throaty chuckle at his eagerness.

"Hungry?"

"Maa...maybe a bit."

"Come on then," Gai lifted one of the great canvas flaps aside with a thickly muscled arm.

Fifty curious faces swivelled to appraise the new intruder, chopsticks clattering noisily against a large wooden bench that stretched the length of the tent.

An awkward, expectant silence descended on the group. Kakashi suddenly felt very exposed and shoved his hands forcefully in his pockets, affecting a posture of lazy indifference.

"Dear friends!" Gai bellowed, "Let me introduce you all to a very important person! Some of you will know him from your time in Konoha, some of you may have worked with him in the past, and others may recognise him from his handsome profile in the bingo book...Let me present you with, my friend and eternal rival, Hatake Kakashi!"

Kakashi winced at what was most probably considered a 'dynamic' entrance in Gai's book, and glared at his 'rival' accusingly.

Gai smiled back with sparkling oblivion.

Kakashi sighed.

He raised his hand in a casual salute, "Yo."

Immediately the hubbub of light conversation and rattling utensils commenced.

An upturned crate was pushed out from under the bench and Kakashi took the offered seat, folding his arms on the table top. A sloshing bowl of broth filled with noodles and dumplings was handed down the line to him and he gratefully warmed his hands on the ceramic.

"So, the Great Sharingan Kakashi has come to dine with Konoha's traitors and deserters, eh?" the man seated opposite him drawled, picking at his teeth with the sharp end of a senbon, "What did you do?" he waggled his eyebrows curiously, allowing his mouth to curve up in a lopsided smirk around the thin metal projectile.

The other people gathered on either side of him leant in to hear his answer.

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully, lifting the bowl to his face to sniff at the glorious aroma.

"Well, _'officially'_ I have been gallivanting through the shadows with the resistance," He cast a cursory glance around him at his present company "...in reality I was screwing the Hokage's apprentice...then I married the Hokage's apprentice...and now I am here."

The man let loose a loud bark of laughter, turning more heads toward their end of the bench, and slammed his hand down on it's rough surface,

"See! Wasn't this exactly what we were just talking about? Women. Fucking women hanging us up by the balls."

There was a low murmur of assent and a scattered chinking as tin mugs collided in agreement.

Kakashi eyed his new companion wearily, noticing the faint dusting of red under his eyes and across his nose. The guy was good looking; there was no doubt about it, with high cheekbones and a crocked smile that screamed 'bad news'. His poker straight, honey brown hair fell to just above his shoulders and was held away from his face by a navy-blue bandana. The senbon bobbed along the line of his lips in a cheery rhythm.

As if reading his mind, the man's grin broadened revealing a flash of perfectly white and straight teeth. He reached behind him and retrieved an label-less bottle of clear liquid. Snatching up two tin mugs from the bench he proceeded to pour large servings of the anonymous liquid.

A mug slid across the table and bumped into Kakashi's soup.

His companion picked up his own mug and held it up loftily, letting the drink slosh back and forth, and spoke with confidence,

"Genma Shiranui; Proud double agent for the resistance."

Kakashi could feel a challenge hanging in the air- and not just from the group wanting to know where his allegiances lay.

He hooked a finger into his mask, pulled it down around his chin and watched as this _Genma's _confident smile faltered ever so slightly...

Kakashi arranged his features into what he knew to be his most rakish smile and cocked his head to the side. He matched Genma's raised glass with his own,

"Hatake Kakashi; Missing-nin and newest recruit."

* * *

After the customary rituals of thinly veiled male posturing had been observed, the atmosphere around the camp had lightened considerably.

Genma, after his initial territorial display, had relaxed as the drink flowed and was proving good, if crass, company.

Gai had joined them and now set next to Kakashi, swigging at his own mug of what was, Kakashi had been told, lethally potent cactus moonshine.

The stuff had the same alcoholic content as your average bottle of paint stripper and tasted only incrementally better...but it was sweet, and strong and had soothed away the aches and pains from his long journey. In fact it was doing a good job of soothing away _all _sensation.

After long strategic discussions and half a bottle of liver-rotting-cactus-juice Kakashi was feeling very..._very _drunk.

Gai had outlined the goals of the resistance, aptly dubbed the '_Fallen Leaves'_, while Genma had chimed in occasionally to expand on a point or offer new information.

Despite the negative propaganda circulating through Konoha about the _Fallen Leaves_ and their motivations, Kakashi found himself quickly sympathising and agreeing with their stance on the impending war – a war, it was becoming clear, that Konoha had orchestrated.

It was simple really – a year ago Suna had renegotiated their alliance with Konoha, agreeing to supply oil (for underneath the desert there was a tremendous supply of the precious fuel) and iron in trade for wood and slate – precious home building provisions not easily acquired in such an arid climate.

Countless other relation improving programmes had been outlined – a student exchange program to provide a varied education to each countries respective shinobi and Suna were also desperately short of good medical care. Sakura had been chosen to oversee the restructuring of Suna's care system – starting with the building of a state of the art hospital and the implementation compulsory medic training.

Tsunade had been couching Naruto Uzumaki to take over the position of Hokage, something which the Kazakage had been very pleased about considering their friendship.

Then Danzou, who had always been against sharing Konoha's 'secrets' had risen to power as Tsunade's political adviser. Then they had married. Sakura had been recalled from her duty and Naruto disappeared. Gradually Konoha stopped supplying its agreed trade and stringent patrols of Root operatives had sprung up along the border.

-And they were getting bolder, moving closer and closer to Suna's territory. Kakashi had seen it himself on his journey into Wind Country. Of course Suna was responding to this threat as any country would.

The Fallen Leaves were aiding Suna. Pushing back against the Root army, disrupting their operations where possible and trying, unsuccessfully, to find out how Danzou had managed to reverse the situation so quickly. It was obvious Danzou still wanted Suna's provisions...and it was obvious that Tsunade had somehow become compromised. They were also searching for the Kyuubi, but so far with no luck. It bothered Kakashi greatly that a force of nature like Naruto, with his boundless energy and less subtle approach to life, could just disappear so completely, but continent was sprawling and looking for a single boy, albeit a noisy boy with a demon in his stomach, was neigh on impossible. There was no evidence to suggest that he was even alive. There was just...nothing.

"I'm heading out tomorrow, I have supplies to bring to one of our inside operatives." Genma slurred while waving his mug in the air.

"They still haven't figured you out as a double agent? Where do they think you've been this last month?" Kakashi asked incredulously.

"You see this?" he said, sticking his tongue out and using his senbon as a pointer.

"A bullshit emitter?" Kakashi mused sardonically.

"Solid silver," grinned Genma, "Nah, I was on an assassination which was plotted as a six week undercover job. Conveniently I already knew the target, by casual acquaintance of course, and knew exactly where to find her. The job was done on my first night away. Sad though...she was hot. Gave great head. Didn't charge either."

Gai _tsked_ disapprovingly into his drink, "Shiranui, you should not speak of the fairer sex in such a way. They are to be treasured...or feared for their delicate beauty and passionate souls. Why, my beautiful petal Anko would tear you apart if she heard you speak in such a way."

Genma snorted derisively, "Oh come-on Gai, they are exactly the same about us. Give any woman a good looking man with half a brain and she would sell her own mother for a walk on his wild side. I've never had any trouble getting _everything_ I want from the 'fairer sex' and they never have any trouble from me. We're all just fucking mammals in heat."

"Poetic Shiranui, real poetic." Giggled the man next to him with the scarred face and messy hair -Raidou was it?

"It's totally true! All you need to get _any _woman you want is a quick tongue..." he waggled his eyebrows at this, "and a huge--"

"Ego?" Someone interjected.

"Capacity for self-delusion?" said somebody else.

"Misogynistic chip on your shoulder?" Kakashi supplied airily with a shrug and a hiccup.

Genma, using the senbon held between his thumb and index finger, punctuated each syllable of his next sentence with tiny jabs at the air,

"My point is - that any women, girl, kunoichi...whatever, is just as lonely and in need of a warm body to move against as we are. As ninja we take what we can get when we can get it, even your girl Hatake."

Even though it was said in jest Kakashi couldn't stop the rumbling growl that escaped him, "You know nothing about _my girl_."

"The Hokage's apprentice? Tiny little pink thing with warm hands and a healing touch?" Genma pressed, smirking.

The senbon continued to punctuate his words.

_...jab, jab, jab, jab..._

"What do you think she's getting up to now that her bed is cold and the nights are lonely? Do you really think that an eighteen year old girl – in her prime – is going to wait around for a husband who may or may not be coming back? Face it; she's probably rubbing up against Tenzou right as we speak. Dumb move that – leaving another bloke in charge of your woman."

Kakashi's lashed out so quickly that Genma only realised what had happened when his senbon was securing him by the collar to the bench. Kakashi was on his feet, pushing Genma's face into the oak surface, his fingers laced tightly into honey hair.

"Tenzou isn't like that and neither is Sakura. I trust her completely." Kakashi snarled in his ear, breathing hot and fast. The emotions rolled through him in heavy waves. He cursed himself for losing it, drink always made him irrational, he usually never touched it...but he didn't release the prostrated shinobi.

"Kakashi..." Gai's hand rested lightly on his shoulder

He tightened his grip.

"Shiranui, man - just apologise already." Raidou said tensely.

Genma blew loose strands of hair away from his eyes and angled his face as much as Kakashi would allow, meeting his angry glare,

"I didn't mean anything malicious by it...but I am not apologising. All it'll take is for the right man to come along..."

Kakashi shoved down harder before releasing his grip. Genma worked the senbon loose and slipped the metal back between his teeth,

"I can prove it."

"Genma, quit while you're ahead--" Gai started, but Kakashi held up a hand to silence him.

"And how would you do that?" Kakashi's tone was flat and dangerous.

Genma smoothed down his shirt, dusting off imaginary dirt from his clothes and studied his nails carefully,

"I'll pay your darling princess a visit. _If_ she can resist my numerous charms then I'll..." he looked around as if trying to remember where he had hidden something, "...I'll hand over my collection of katana."

There were several low whistles around the table.

"Katana." Kakashi flatly responded, unimpressed. He folded his arms across his chest and stared on dispassionately.

Genma rolled his eyes dramatically "Tsk. '_Katana_' he says, as if I'm talking about some lame bundle of ticket-stubs."

Raidou obviously felt the need to provide some background information,

"Shiranui has the most extensive collection of antique Katana I have ever seen. Or heard about. He even has an original _Kashima_ example."

Despite his ire Kakashi felt his eyebrows jump several centimetres up his forehead.

"Two actually." Genma corrected.

"So, let me get this straight. You are going to try and seduce my wife and _when_ you fail, you'll hand over a collection of weapons which must be worth a small fortune."

Genma nodded enthusiastically, "A large fortune. Yes."

Kakashi shook his head, suddenly tired, "...and you want to place a bet?"

"A friendly wager..."

"So what do you expect from me?"

Genma's laugh was light and genuine, "Well, _when_ I win I'll already have taken your pride and your woman...so I suppose nothing of worth. _But,_ in the name of good sportsmanship, perhaps those." He pointed to the rings that had worked their way over Kakashi's shirt in the short scuffle.

Kakashi stroked at the chain around his neck absently.

"It's not like you'll have much need for a wedding ring if I win." Genma pointed out.

"_If_ you win." Kakashi slurred and thrust a hand out.

"If." Genma acquiesced, giving Kakashi's hand a firm shake.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The Wet Laboratory was housed adjacently to Konoha's hospital, and was fitted with direct ventilation and a specialised closed circuit water filtration system, in a secured building designed specifically to meet the requirements of a biomedical facility.

Shizune's personal lab was a small affair with two work benches and a large water tank.

In one corner sat a white board on wheels, it had a tray full of marker pens that didn't work and every available part of its surface had been covered with long lists of compounds and complicated formulas.

The back wall was divided by numerous shelves which were studded with thousands of small apothecary bottles, all lined up in neat rows and colour coded to indicate the predominant usage for each substance.

The top three shelves were full of the various poisons she had both collected and constructed: hallucinogens, narcotics, corrosives, bioaccumulates, phosphodiesterases, neurotoxins, hemotoxins, cytotoxins and proteolysins.

The next three shelves were dedicated to the antidotes for each treatable poison.

The bottom shelves were less stringently ordered and were instead full to bursting with little pull out cubby-holes which housed a whole range of herbs and ingredients.

Shizune handed a small envelope to the man who seemed to dominate her work space despite his unassuming stature.

"Two tablets morning and night, after food."

"I know how to take them Shizune-san." Danzou said shortly, stifling a cough against the back of his hand.

"Have you noticed any improvement?"

"My mobility has shown some improvement, but I am still short of breath on occasion."

Shizune could see that it hurt his pride to admit to his ailing health, and even though he knew she couldn't tell anyone about his condition, he still refused to discuss it openly or in any more depth. It made doing her job much harder. She understood that Danzou was a strong man who didn't like relying on help from others, but he was not young and fit anymore. She supposed his reluctant admittance of being a 'little short of breath' was akin to a declaration of suffocation.

"Have you been taking that tea I prescribed?" she queried tentatively, "I'll make you a new batch immediately. It should ease the stress on your lungs."

Danzou grunted a stiff, 'Very Well' while Shizune jotted down some notes on his file.

"...if you just allowed me to examine you, I could--"

"That is unnecessary."

He was silent for a long time. She only knew he was still there from the quiet rattle of his breathing and the shadow he cast over her work.

When he didn't immediately leave she looked up from her papers questioningly. With one finger he pushed a folded piece of paper across the counter to her.

"What's this?" she asked unfolding it carefully.

Danzou did not reply, and instead stared fixedly out of the letterbox window in the doorway.

Glancing at the messily scrawled symbols on the slip of paper, Shizune could tell it had been done with a shaking hand. It took her a few moments to decipher the uneven penmanship and longer to make out what the arranged letters and numbers represented. A hollow dread began to spread through her. Cold and uncomfortable.

"...You want me to make this for you." She didn't phrase it as a question.

Her fear only intensified when he clicked his crutch impatiently against the tiled floor.

"Sir, I can't make this." She whispered meekly.

"Yes you can and you _will_."

"What is it for, may I ask?"

His crutch tapped at the floor again, "Shizune-san, I am giving you an order."

She bowed lowly in apology "Y-yes sir. Sorry sir. It will take time to produce."

He began to walk toward the door, the crutch's bone base skittered lightly over the tiles.

"Sir?"

He regarded her coolly over his shoulder.

"Well...If I do this, will you let me see her?"

He seemed to consider it for a long moment, and then finally grunted,

"Yes. I will allow you to see her."

And just like that Shizune felt the warmth return to her body.

After the door had closed she turned her attention back to the paper.

The compound was a particularly volatile one; a poison that corroded the internal organs until they sloshed around like wet puree inside the body. The slow liquidation of innards was accompanied by a complete collapse of motor function that rendered the victim unable to move but able to feel each stage of the agonising process. Death was slow and excruciatingly painful. With a few adjustments...an extra ingredient here, an omission there, it could be transformed into nothing more than an extremely powerful sleeping agent.

And that was exactly what Shizune planned to do. She had no intention of facilitating his plans...she had too much blood on her hands already.

There was a sharp rap on the door. A Root guard entered and regarded her emotionlessly through the angled eye slits of his mask,

"Shizune-san you have a visitor. He is not on the approved guest list. He introduced himself as your..._snuggle bunny_." The guard _almost_ sounded perplexed.

Shizune tried to clamp down a sunny giggle and failed. It felt good to laugh. There wasn't much to laugh about these days.

She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the sound, "Show him in."

Genma swept around the doorframe like a tornado, bounding towards the guard and slapping him heartily on the back,

"My Gods man! There's no need for all this formality and red tape, I know my way around...hang on...you have a little something..." he began tugging on a loose thread on the guard's collar while simultaneously wiping a muddy hand down the black armour, "Wow, isn't that like...a _violation _of your dress code or something? _Tsk tsk_."

The Root guard managed a look of actual distress; shoving the invading hands off of him to inspect his sullied uniform. He tried to wipe off the dirt with his sleeve but that only spread the grim further.

"You should go get that cleaned. It's not good to let the standard slip..." Genma blithely continued.

"Yes. Yes that is correct. Standards." The Root guard beat a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him.

"_Sweety-Pumpkin!_" Genma cried throwing his arms in the air dramatically and twirling towards Shizune, he produced a bouquet of sorry looking weeds from thin air and shoved them towards her, then hopped up to perch on her work bench. "You're looking gloriously radiant as usual."

He _looked_ fatigued and dirty – Shizune could smell him from where she was standing. He unlooped a satchel from around his neck and set it down none too gently on the table top. It squirmed..._squirmed_, and he poked it viciously. There was an indignant sounding squeak and then the bag stilled.

"I am not even going to ask," Shizune muttered, "and _Snuggle Bunny?_ Really?"

She took the bouquet and sniffed in the acrid aroma. Tangles of twisted stems topped with ugly white flowers were mixed in with trumpet-like blossoms with wide paddle shaped leaves. Shizune felt her smile broaden.

"Those are the ones you like right?" He swung his legs under the table while his eyes flicked rapidly around the room, jumping from corner to corner.

A shadow passed behind the letterbox window.

Shizune gestured toward the ceiling, subtly disguising the motion by combing a hand through her hair. She smiled vainly at the black masked face that peered in.

Genma could see it now – a tiny blink of red light encased in the white plastic of the sprinkler system.

Shizune spoke up with sugary sweetness, "Even though you couldn't remember what they _looked_ like, you still got the right ones. It's so nice that you _listen_ to what I say."

Ahhh...so they could hear her but not see her. That made things easier, even with the constant presence at the door.

He reached out, pulling her towards him by the waist until she settled between his knees.

"So, does Snuggle Bunny get a cuddle?" he asked, cheekily wrinkling his nose.

Shizune locked her arms around his neck and held him close to her.

"Progress?" he whispered quietly against her ear.

"Not yet, another month...maybe six weeks. These should help though." She whispered back, rustling the bouquet against his thigh.

He untangled their limbs and landed a wet kiss against her mouth before slipping neatly off the bench and pulling the satchel along with him, "Well Pumpkin, I'd better be grabbing a shower and then hand my report in, you know – protocol and all that."

His light pinch of her buttocks had all the blood in her body racing to her face.

"Bye bye _sugar plum_." Shizune snarled through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to throw her stool at him as he left.

She plucked one of the small white buds from her bouquet and squeezed it hard. A bead of noxious white sap rolled onto her fingers and immediately spread a light burning sensation to the surrounding tissue.

Genma Shiranui was many things - an opportunistic, perverted, sneaking, no good, womanizing...angel.

Datura and Dogbane. The rare desert plants were exactly what the doctor ordered.

* * *

Sakura sat on the wide sill and stared out of her window, allowing the cool glass to press up against her shoulder. A book sat open, face down on her lap; she had long since given up trying to read it. The protagonist's problems seemed infantile in comparison to her own and the romance between the main character and his princess left a bitter, resentful taste in her mouth. Her fingers smoothed the ties of Kakashi's headband, stroking down the fabric again and again in a compulsive action.

From her side of the estate, Konoha could be easily seen in all its glory, sprawling out under the fading sun like a lazy cat. The streetlights were beginning to blink on one by one, marking the end of another day with nothing better to do than think of Kakashi.

Where was he now? Was he well? Did he miss her?

The questions circled around her mind like hungry sharks. Every Root squad returning through the gates added more chum to the water...

Had they caught him? Were they still hunting him? Was he injured?

She knocked her head against the glass to try and change the track. It was honestly getting boring. Yamato had told her to focus on other things...that her mood was unhealthy. But it was so damn hard! There _was_ nothing else to think about. She was still under lock and key within the estate grounds and she was still no closer to coming up with a solution for any of this.

Even her bed-chamber, which was large and fully furnished, with glass double doors that lead out onto a small balcony and a fully stocked library in one corner, felt claustrophobic. A ninja didn't need to be surrounded by material belongings, she would have been happier camping on the forest floor.

She entertained the idea of running away again...but she didn't know where he was. She was pretty sure that Yamato did, but he wasn't elaborating for obvious reasons. If she left she would be followed and would bring the whole of Root down on Kakashi – and she suspected – the resistance.

She wasn't even sure if she_ could_ escape. Security across the whole of Konoha seemed to be getting tighter. There were more patrols working across the rooftops. There was less civilian traffic in the streets. Tsunade and Danzou were rarely seen without a whole battalion of guards shadowing their movements.

Most of Kakashi's peers had left months ago. Gai, Anko, Iwashi... and many more. Their profiles lined the mission room walls. '_Traitor_' stamped in red across every face. Those who were active shinobi during the reign of the Third and Fourth Hokage' seemed to find Konoha's new stance on foreign relations to be unpalatable. So they left. If they were caught they were executed.

Some had stayed. Kurenai had a son to think about and she wasn't the only one with a family to protect. The life of a missing nin was definitely not for everyone. Then there were those who were simply loyal to their country, whoever was in charge and whatever they were asked to do. She had thought Kakashi one of them. He had been in ANBU after all, and ANBU served the Hokage unquestioningly. But apparently being faced with an indefinite prison sentence for marrying your girlfriend was too much even for him.

He had friends in the resistance...it made sense to seek them out.

Of course Yamato hadn't confirmed that either.

She thought that maybe..._maybe_ if she could get Tsunade alone again, just once, she could talk some sense into her. But Tsunade was still distant and uncooperative, and _he_ was always there.

Danzou.

Sakura's hands squeezed at the book in her lap, bending its spine until it groaned in protest.

"Sakura?"

Yamato's head appeared in the doorway and slowly she rolled her head against the wall to look at him.

"You have a guest."

She kicked at the wall in aggravation. She did not particularly feel like company. She shouldn't take it out on Yamato-sempai; he had taken up the position of guarding her twenty four hours a day, which meant she could relax a little more than she would have under the claustrophobic guard of Root.

Root still lingered, monitoring her movements and activities throughout the estate, but at least she could read alone in her room without one of those black masks hovering over the end of her bed.

She dog-eared the page, knowing that she would probably never pick it up again. Kakashi would've chastised her for treating a book in such a manner. He treated his own collection with almost reverential care. 'Man's greatest achievement – the printed word,' He'd always said.

"Who is it?" she mumbled without interest.

"An acquaintance of a mutual friend."

Well that sparked her interest...

"Show them in."

The first thing Genma noticed about Haruno Sakura was the dark bruise like marks smudged under her vividly green eyes. The girl was evidently having trouble sleeping. Coupled with the uncombed mass of powder pink hair which was made crazier by the wonky headband sitting on her forehead and the large red baggy t-shirt which hung off her small frame like a potato sack – Haruno Sakura looked a total mess.

Not that Genma couldn't see what the fuss was about. She had examined him during his annual medical once...and he could still clearly picture how tempting she had looked with her hair pinned up in an elaborate twist and that ridiculously modest medic uniform hugging her curves.

He, like many men in Konoha, loved that uniform; a shirtdress which was conservatively long, brushing just below the knees and was buttoned throat to hem. There was only one reason to put that many buttons on a uniform.

He pushed the delicious mental image aside.

Sakura was obviously pretty despite her current state of disarray and had the type of wide-set elfin features which would mature into a much coveted and rare beauty given a year or two. Hatake Kakashi certainly knew how to pick them.

"Sakura, you're looking as radiant as ever."

She seemed bothered by his close scrutiny and self-consciously began smoothing down her wild hair.

"I'm sorry...but who are you?" She bluntly asked, uncaring if she came across as rude. Why was he addressing her like they knew each other? She recognised him but couldn't quite put a name to the...devilishly handsome face.

"You wound me!" he declared, slapping a hand to his chest in mock heart-break, "Surely you remember the most romantic medical you ever gave?"

Sakura's nose wrinkled in distaste. Checking prostates was never 'romantic'. Who the hell was this-

"Shiranui Genma," He offered her his hand and declared, "Special Jounin and messenger boy at your service."

Grudgingly she took his hand, and he wasted no time swooping down onto one knee and kissing the knuckles of her delicate fingers. Sakura laughed nervously, she had never been very good at dealing with flamboyancy. Her eyes darted down to the satchel slung casually over his shoulder that seemed to be..._wriggling_?!

"Shiranui-san..."

He released her and stood, "No no," he clucked with his tongue, "Call me Genma – please."

An impatient frown began to settle between her brows, "Okay...Genma-san-"

"No...Just Genma." He corrected with a waggling finger and an avuncular wink.

Sakura flared her nostrils and exhaled hotly, "Fine. _Genma_ – what do you want?"

"Ah...Well, I bring a message, from your beloved."

Sakura's sluggish pulse stuttered once, twice, and then exploded into a rhythmic pounding that caused a sparkling swath of green to briefly fold over her vision,

"You have a message from Kakashi!?" she cried excitedly.

"Woah woah woah! Of course not!" He bellowed in a hideously transparent display of 'shock' and 'outrage', and then dipped in and whispered sharply in her ear, "If it's alright with you I'd rather the whole of Konoha _didn't_ know I was jaunting around with Fire Countries most wanted."

Sakura clamped a hand over her mouth firmly, "sorry..." she mumbled into her palm.

"Well...what does it say?" she asked after Genma had gone back to just _staring_ at her again.

He responded with a light "Can I ask you something?" and studied the calluses on his hands.

Sakura tempered her growing impatience, "Erm...sure?"

"What is a pretty young thing like you doing wasting your life for an old bastard like him?" he cocked his head to the side in a quizzical fashion.

Well, Sakura didn't see how it was any of this guy's business, and even though Genma was handsome in a boyish calendar kind of way, he still looked about the same age as Kakashi...

"Well, I err..."

"I mean, you understand that he's probably not coming back right? Missing nin are very rarely pardoned and it's even rarer to have that status revoked..."

"I made him a promi--"

"He certainly hasn't let your separation affect him; He's been drinking our brew and enjoying the company of _our_ loose kunoichi..."

"...he...he what?" Sakura stammered uncertainly.

Genma raised a slim brown eyebrow, _bingo._

"Why should you be stuck here, rotting away in this room? Hell I'm sure there are plenty of guys," here he casually gestured to himself, "who'd be willing to help you forget all your troubles..."

Sakura had stopped listening. She staggered towards her bed and sat down on the edge of its springy mattress, staring into the middle distance.

"-but Kakashi doesn't drink. He hates alcohol..." she trailed off, bewildered.

A numbness had spread very quickly into her expression, her eyes were glassy and her mouth had settled in a slack pout.

Guilt was an emotion Genma only rarely felt or acknowledged. For a shinobi, guilt was a useless emotion that only served to impair your ability to carry out tasks. Did he feel guilt when he gutted an enemy? No. Even if it was a woman or a child? No. Even if they were innocent bystanders that got caught in the crossfire? No. Innocence was such a relative term and guilt had no place in a shinobi's emotional arsenal. He could feel it now though, the twisting constriction in his chest as he looked over her shell shocked features.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. Too much time in the desert.

"He isn't really having _that_ much fun. The alcohol tastes like weapons grease and the women all look like camels...or are camels. He's barely talked about anyone but you."

He groaned internally as her face lit up again. She searched his expression for any signs of deceit, her vibrant irises making miniscule jumps from left to right.

Unable to stand her desperation any longer he decided to put her out of her misery with a small shrug and airy remark of, "Honestly. He's a mess without you."

A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth, "Really? You were just messing with me?"

Her fingers worked at the ties of her lopsided headband lovingly.

"Totally." Genma sourly affirmed. He obviously wasn't going to get into her knickers by using his usual charm offensive. The girl had eyes for only one man and that man was clearly not him – as absurd as that sounded. No, he had a feeling that Sakura's panties were locked and bolted and there was only one set of keys. It was a fucking tragedy.

"Look," he continued, "I even have a message for you..."

Sakura watched Genma scrabbling around in his satchel – which seemed to be trying to run away from him. He yelped in a most undignified manner and withdrew a now bleeding thumb, "Stupid bloody animal!" he snarled, grabbing the satchel by its base and upending it quickly onto the bed. A small bundle of brown and beige rolled out onto the duvet and began quaking with spasmodic sneezes.

"Who ya callin'-" a snuffling sneeze, "-stupid?" the ball grumbled wretchedly.

"...Pakkun?" Sakura queried, poking at it with an index finger.

Uncurling, Pakkun turned his squished face to snap at the intruding appendage, he paused before his teeth connected however, and sniffed at her hand.

"Floral Green?" His sniffing intensified, "Sakura! It's you!" he yapped excitedly and leapt up into her arms. Sakura giggled under an onslaught of long pink tongued kisses.

"You have to get me away from this monster!" Pakkun frantically barked, "He stuffed me in his bag with a posy of Dogbane. _Dogbane _Sakura! I'm a dog, I'm allergic, look at my face - it's all swollen!"

True enough, Pakkun's origami face did look less heavily folded than usual. Sakura threw Genma an accusatory glare.

"What? It's not like you can tell, ugly little creature."

"Who are you calling ugly?" Pakkun snarled.

Sakura patted the pug's head affectionately and placed him in her lap, "He's not ugly, are you Pakkun? You're beautiful."

The dog straightened his little blue jacket and licked at a paw with obvious pride.

"Beautiful?" snorted Genma, "My left testicle has less wrinkles."

The dog's hackles lifted vertically but Pakkun chose not to dignify Genma's comment with a response. He swivelled in Sakura's lap to relay his message.

"The Boss says;" and here Pakkun began in impersonation of Kakashi which was frighteningly realistic, "I hope you're not missing me too much, I just wanted you to know that I'm fine. The food here is crap, the company could be better and it's cold at night without you...well it isn't actually _that_ cold, but it's certainly not as fun. I miss you and I love you."

Sakura gave a long juddering sigh and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

The dogs chocolaty eyes widened fearfully, he ducked to nudge at her hand with the flat of his head and let out a high worried whine.

"You silly dog, I'm crying 'cause I'm happy," Sakura said through her watery smile. "When he next summons you will you tell him I love him too?"

The pug saluted awkwardly, leapt up to lick her face, "Of course!" and then vanished in a poof of white smoke.

The not knowing had been awful. In fact she had felt Kakashi's absence as acutely as if it were a death. She had grieved for his loss everyday...but everyday it had got slightly easier to accept. Now it felt like tearing the scab off a cut and then spitefully pouring salt in the wound. The pain came flooding back, the uncertainty, her insecurities...

She allowed the emotions to grate against her and revelled in the rawness of it all.

It felt good, extraordinarily painful, but good to_ feel_ again. She'd been like a ghost the last two weeks, drifting through her days without focus or ambition. Now she had the knowledge that Kakashi was safe. He still loved her. She was going to see him again, she knew it.

"...So," Genma ventured at last, "I suppose dinner and a quickie is out of the question?"

He was already out of the door by the time the vase shattered against it.

* * *

Tenzou, or '_Yamato'_ as he seemed to be called these days, was a diligent guard and protector. His wood clone stood guarding Sakura's bed chamber, balancing easily on the thin balcony railing while his real body paced the corridor outside her bedroom door.

Genma chewed restlessly on the metal projectile wedged between his teeth.

Surely the guy would need to take a piss at some point?

His muscles were starting to protest. Crouching for so long in such an awkward position only served to highlight the fact that he wasn't as young as he used to be. Not that he was _old_. No way. He just wasn't as...nimble as he had been at sixteen or even twenty five.

It wasn't only Yamato he needed to keep an eye on. The Root guards were also a problem, every entrance and exit was stationed with two rat masked ninja, in fact the whole grand complex seemed to be under lock and key. At least their patrol routes were fairly predictable.

All this security only compounded his belief that there was something seriously wrong in Konoha.

In years gone by, the Estate had been uninhabited, Tsunade-sama preferring to remain more closely connected with the Village, the Hokage tower had its own self contained apartment and was more than big enough for her own practical tastes. The estate had previously been used as a symbol of Konoha's wealth and power. During the reign of the First and Second Hokages, the opulent reception rooms and grand staircases were the designated accommodation for the visiting lords and leaders of the other shinobi nations. It was still traditional to house the other Kages' here during the chunin exams and during political meetings.

Although a direct descendant of the Senju clan, the Godaime Hokage had never been impressed with unnecessary grandeur. The woman was a gambler and an alcoholic. She enjoyed the company of card sharks and sitting on a well-worn bench in a smoky bar.

This estate, no_ prison_, kept her away from the village and away from its people. She spent less and less time in the Hokage tower, venturing there only twice daily to receive reports and delegate work. It had left room for Danzou to transplant himself into Konoha's heart. He was a parasite, attached to her in every aspect.

Tsunade's relocation to the estate had been terribly out of character. It had been the first of many changes made, before the Kyuubi-kid vanished, even before Root's existence became 'public' knowledge.

Genma shifted his position to ward off the pins and needles that were sparking up his shin bones.

_Public_ knowledge. He scoffed. The organisation was still as clandestine as ever, only now they patrolled the streets, took their pick of the missions and implemented pedantic conduct codes to all those not trained as they were. No wonder over twenty percent of Konoha's regular shinobi force had abandoned the mother country.

Finally there was some movement. A crackle of static. Genma craned his neck to get a better look at_ Yamato's _clone through the trees – luckily the weather was warm and still, so he could easily make out what was being said.

The clone touched two fingers to the elasticated radio piece around his throat and then his original, slightly digital voice bled into the night.

"I have a meeting now; you will need to take up this position."

"Affirmative, moving now." The clone gave the area a cursory glance and then slipped over the balcony railing, dropping down into the front gardens and disappearing from sight.

Genma swung himself neatly over the exterior wall and landed softly amongst a border of yellow flowered shrubs.

He darted quickly across the grounds, avoiding the orange pools of light which spotted the grass. Using the bare minimum of chakra required, he scaled the wall and vaulted over onto Sakura's slim balcony.

The glass door was tightly secured with an iron catch-latch fastening. Taking the senbon from between his teeth, Genma began to work the lock. With a near silent _click_, the latch sprung open and he eased the doors open and slid into the room.

The sweet smell of Sakura's breath and the flowery scent of her skin seemed to permeate every corner of the room. A slither of yellow light could be seen under the crack of the bedroom door. Every forty seconds a shadow would tumble passed it. He kept on high alert, knowing that Yamato's wood clone was not to be underestimated. He crept stealthily toward the bed, to where Sakura lay tangled atop the sheets, wearing only a thin strappy top and a pair of shuriken-print boxers. They clearly weren't hers.

Genma felt a stab of jealousy. She was glorious. Her skin, bathed in silvery moonlight, shone with a subtle lustre like warm pewter. And there was so much of it on show. The boxers stuck to her thighs in the humid summer heat, allowing him to appreciate her long tanned legs. The pale blue top had hitched upward to expose an expanse of toned stomach and just a tantalizing glimpse of a breasts gentle curve. Her long pink hair feathered over the pillow, washed and combed to a high sheen now. Her breathing was deep and even and on her bedside table he could see a small bottle of sedatives, he could touch her now and she probably wouldn't wake.

He wanted to touch her very badly.

His teeth worked franticly at the metal in his mouth. He wasn't used to contenting himself with just looking; it was torture to a man like him. His fingers jumped in his pockets, begging him to feel the warmth of her skin and run his hands over her until every tiny pale hair on her body was standing to attention.

But he couldn't. He wasn't there for that.

He'd already picked up his next mission, a scroll delivery to Tea Country's Daimyo. It was far away enough for him to squeeze in a couple of days in Suna without drawing suspicion. He was sure that given longer here, he could weasel his way into her affections, but he didn't have that kind of time.

Who was he kidding? In reality Genma had developed a conscience. Sakura was just in too much pain right now for him to feel good about messing with her emotions. It was written all over her face; even in sleep she was worrying over _him_.

A bet was a bet though, and Genma was not about to hand over a near priceless collection of antique swords just because, for the first time in his life, a woman didn't seem all that impressed. Kakashi Hatake needed taking down a peg or two anyway.

He should've supported the Fallen Leaves months ago. He was legendary...they could've done with someone of his calibre on their side in the first months of rebellion. More people might have listened. Lives could have been saved...But no, he had stayed to serve under a Hokage who was barely more than a puppet. He had stood by while his friends and co-workers had been arrested and interrogated and sometimes executed.

And _now_ he wanted in? When Konoha was on the brink of a misguided war and the situation was spiralling out of control? Well fuck him. In his opinion Genma was owed a little fun at Kakashi's expense.

Methodically he began to take note of every detail in the chamber:

_The netted azure curtains which were billowing gently in the balcony doorway. _

_The bamboo framed photograph of her old genin team. _

_A romance novel with a cracked spine. _

Then there were the most important details of all, he bent closer:

_Chipped peach polish on her toenails. _

_The scent of coconut and palm oil clinging to her hair. _

_The clashing odour of limes and lilies attached to her skin. _

_A thin ribbon of scar tissue which started just right of her naval and travelled down below the elastic of her boxers. _

It wasn't enough though. He eyes darted to the headband looped around her wrist. Sakura's own would have been red to symbolise her status as a medic. This one, nicked and dented through use, was a slightly faded navy blue. It was Kakashi's, he was sure.

With the utmost care he began untying the first knot. Proof, this could be proof.

Sakura's deep rhythmic breathing caught in her throat, her eyelashes fluttered briefly against her cheeks...Genma stilled, feeling the tension run right through his body. Then with a sleepy murmur she rolled over and continued to snore lightly. The new position made his task easier. He managed to loosen the knot a little more, squirming his thumb between the loops of fabric and easing them apart. Finally it fell free, and he slipped the headband neatly into his pocket.

Taking a dangerous and self indulgent risk he bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. She didn't stir, but in the blue abstraction of the fading moonlight he could swear he saw her smile sleepily. He fled the room the way he'd come and re-latched the window, careful to ensure everything was just the way it had been.

The first luminous strands of sunlight were just starting to weave a golden belt across the horizon. By the time Genma reached the camp it would be night fall again.

* * *

They'd kept him waiting for four hours. He was worried about Sakura, even though he knew his wood clone was still active – he could feel that other part of himself – detached and foggy – pacing the corridor outside Sakura's room somewhere underneath his consciousness. He didn't like leaving her alone. It was stupid, she was more than capable of looking after herself...but he had promised Kakashi.

"Yamato, come in."

Yamato entered the office to see the Hokage at her desk, fingers steepled underneath her chin. Danzou's stony figure was a looming silhouette against the bright morning sunlight streaming through the window. He cast a dark stretched shadow which crept over Tsunade's shoulders.

Yamato stood to attention a respectful two metres from the desk and waited for his Hokage to speak.

"You look tired." Tsunade prompted after a long while.

That was an understatement; he looked like a haunted tree.

"I have not been sleeping well, Hokage-sama." Yamato said carefully.

"We know that you have taken it upon yourself to look out for Sakura, but your loyalty should not come at the expense of your health."

Yamato's gaze flickered suspiciously up to Danzou, but the man had his back to him,

"Hokage-sama, I believe Sakura requires my presence. Since Hatake Kakashi's defection," That word tasted horribly acidic on his tongue, "she has been struggling..."

"Has she really been that effected? ...is she...is she alright?" Tsunade's concern which had been so absent over the last week was suddenly tight on her too young features.

"She needs time and the support of her loved ones."

Although it was only for a second, a flash conflicted guilt flared brightly in Tsunade's recently dull gaze.

"Very well, you may remain at Sakura's side until your skills are needed elsewhere. You are to get some rest though. Here."

Tsunade pulled open her drawer and presented Yamato with a tiny vial of milky liquid,

"This will help you sleep."

Yamato slipped the vial in his weapons pouch, "Thank you Hokage-sama."

He bowed respectfully and left.

Tsunade ran a manicured fingernail over her bottom lip then stood to join her husband by the window. It was back again – the nagging doubts that had been nibbling at her consciousness – why did it feel as though she was constantly forgetting things, that she was missing something very vital? There were fragments of many things. Memories, events, concerns, arguments, love, fear...but it all stuck together, sticky and slow like molasses.

"What did I just give him?" She queried.

Danzou turned his bandaged face to appraise her with a hard, one-eyed glare.

"Do you really want to know?" He said with icy simplicity.

Tsunade's fingers flew back to her mouth in shock, "But he is helping Sakura; he is doing what's best for..." the room suddenly felt too small. She shook her head from side to side, there was something there...something, "Kakashi, Sakura...this is wrong. I don't want this...What am I doing to her? What am I doing?"

A memory dislodged itself, spinning clearly to the forefront of her mind; it was dragging others with it. Long tumbling ribbons.

_Sakura's voice, shocked, "You're...you're marrying Danzou, Seriously? Have you gone insane?"_

Another clicked into place...

_Danzou, tall and proud, "Fire country does not need these useless handicaps."_

_Her own voice snarling, "I don't see a beneficial alliance as a handicap. This is not up for debate."_

Images sparked into existence and then burned, curled, and turned to powder. More were swimming, drowning...

_"-I will not sit back and watch this happen!" _

_Jiraiya..._

_Jiriaya!_

_Naruto... "Baa-chan...are you feeling alright? You've been acting really weird..."_

An outraged gasp left her body.

"W-what have you done!?"

His fingers knotted into her shoulders, bony and cruel. The bandages over his face unravelled, spiralling loose.

Aged, papery skin.

Bloodshot sclera.

A bladed orb of red light...

The worries melted away. The memories collapsed - were pulled sideways and then cemented back into place. Crimson fire tore through her mind, a rolling inferno that engulfed each and every loose thread. The last ten minutes fell to dust...unsubstantial ashes smudging the backs of her eyes.

Gently, almost lovingly, Danzou wiped away the thin trail of blood from her nose.

"Are you feeling well my love? You tripped."

The words were a sharp contrast to the sandpaper roughness of his voice, but it was nice to know he cared...

He helped her into a seated position. How had she got on the floor? She must have worried him; his mouth was tugged into a downward curve that accentuated the deep scar on his chin.

"Is Yamato coming?" she asked when her vision had cleared a little more.

"He was here only a moment ago, don't you remember?" Danzou rumbled.

"Really? Silly me, I'm so forgetful these days," Tsunade scrubbed at her face with both hands, trying to relieve the pressure pounding through her skull, "I have a headache...I think I need to lay down again."

"I will have my guards escort you to your bedchamber."

The black masked shinobi' appeared instantly, dropping through the ceiling and landing without a sound.

As they shepherded Tsunade toward the door, Danzou turned back to the window and the sprawling village below.

"Progress report?"

A shadow pulled away from the wall, the dark inkiness sucking and shifting into a single solid figure.

"Yamato-san has impeded my attempts to get close to her. He claims she is not receiving visitors, although this is contradictory to his actions, he allowed another to meet with her earlier."

Danzou sniffed in aggravation, "He will not pose a problem for much longer."

In a typically colourless voice Sai said "I am also having trouble understanding the behaviour rituals of a courtship. I do not feel that I have the requisite experience for this task."

For the first time Danzou considered that perhaps Sai's thorough reprogramming had been detrimental to his ambitions. If he had allowed Sai to retain the emotions he had acquired while working with team Kakashi, then perhaps this would have been simpler, but even in their infancy those bonds had proved too much of a distraction. They had impaired his subject's judgement and made his loyalty questionable. No, the mental neutering had been necessary; it just made this task a good deal more challenging.

"Sai, failure is not an option."

"Yes sir."

"This is a simple intelligence mission. You need to gain her trust; you need to uncover what she knows of the Kyuubi's whereabouts. Is that clear?"

"Sir, I do not believe she knows anything of Uzumaki's location."

"Nonsense!" Danzou hissed, slamming a clenched fist against the windowsill, "She knows something, that _boy_ was soft with emotion, he wouldn't leave one of his 'precious people' without some indication of his intentions."

Sai recognised 'contempt' and 'anger' in his master's voice but couldn't formulate the correct response. He had been able to once, but the memories of his time in Team Kakashi were sketchy at best, nonexistent at worst. He continued to stand to attention with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Failure is _not_ an option." Danzou repeated with finality.

* * *

_AN: So...what do you think so far? Another 3 - 4 chapters to go. I hope to update this again at the weekend. Please let me know your thoughts and do check out the other works!_


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